


The Only One I See

by TheLanceShow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Childhood Friends, Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Shiro (Voltron), Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Pining Lance (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-03-29 18:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLanceShow/pseuds/TheLanceShow
Summary: Shiro has been in love with Lance for a while.That much is true.But maybe he finds out --That Lance loves him too?





	The Only One I See

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in drafts for ages

Shiro is completely and wholeheartedly a wreck. Love has, for the longest time, been a fickle thing for him. If anything, it's a constant, simple liking the idea of a well intentioned partner. It was just enough, so to convince himself that he's not in love with his childhood -- best -- friend.

When they first met, it was a pain. Lance was only a year old and Shiro was five. His little small, simple brain had not the room nor the patience to deal with a baby. But, alas, the McClains were new and got along with the Shiroganes in a disturbingly swimming manner.

Lance was -- is -- incredibly intelligent. He skipped two grades, in fourth by the time he was seven. A short three grades behind Shiro and they became closer, ever the more platonically enamoured over the years.

He recognized the crush on the blue eyed boy when he was a senior. Lance had just pulled himself out of the pool in the gym fluidly as if he were water himself. Shiro remembers the day well; sun beating down on too-hot skin, their coach deciding that they would cool down by swimming in the pools despite the clear sign that read Only Swimming Team Members Allowed.

Lance had always been a swimmer, even as a young child. Hell, he toppled into his family's pool when he was two and managed to keep afloat. It was no surprise when he joined the swim team at the ripe age of eight.

But that day had shaken Shiro up for a small while. His friend's now broad shoulders were kissed with freckles and sunscreen, his thick hair curled from the chlorine, and he made eye contact. Lance smiled charmingly as if he knew and Shiro blushed, something he very rarely did.

From then on, he attempted to avoid Lance as much as necessary. It didn't work; for a mere day full of self-deprecating looks and hurt glances from involving Lance, he crumbled. Lance had incredible puppy dog eyes and perfect lips for pouting paired with the fact that he could make anyone feel guilty. Shiro hadn't confessed, per se. He just admitted that he liked someone in their gaggle of friends.

Of course, Lance loves to make people happy. Shiro gave a random name from the top of his head, not thinking at the time that there would be much of a consequence. It was girl named Harmony and she only knew Shiro through Lance.

The date had gone horribly, mostly because as soon as she arrived, Shiro had blurted with a cold sweat, "I'm gay so we should probably go our separate ways."

Harmony was the opposite of beguiling, trying to change Shiro's mind -- his sexuality. She'd flick her orange hair, bat her small brown eyes. But Shiro can't help what he's attracted to, what would make his arousal stand to attention. She promptly left their group after that, claiming that she took pity on Shiro.

Another thing about Shiro and Lance's friendship; you couldn't know one without the other.

No matter what, if one knew Shiro they would know Lance, and vice versa. If someone didn't get along with Shiro, Lance would immediately drop them. Shiro did the same.

In summary, best buddies for life. Which includes Lance with his master's degree in chemistry with a thriving career straight out of college and Shiro's doctorates in astronomy, gathering dust from undue disrespect and lack of opportunity; communicating, living together on the pretenses of Shiro not finding employment.

He's twenty-eight and well, Lance is twenty-four and still beautiful, as if in spite of the infatuation turned love.

"When are you going to find a job?" Lance says absently. He's studying videos and pictures he had taken at work, going through multiple expensive books to help his research. "Have you been looking?"

Shiro sighs, running his flesh hand down his face. At least once a week, Lance would pester him about getting a job. It's not like Lance had trouble with paying their rent; at an incredible $84,000 salary -- mind, at an entry level position--he had no problem paying for their two bedroom and one-and-a-half bathroom apartment. Shiro knows where he's coming from, though. He only works at Subway and is tired of  _eating fresh_  every day.

"Of course I have," Shiro says, throwing his head back. He stares at the ceiling, a piece of chewed up gum hanging there from last year. Lance had choked and pounded on his chest, the gum having lodged into his throat after he laughed. It ended up shooting vertically from his esophagus and onto the ceiling. "I don't understand why I can't find a job. They say I need experience but how the Hell do I get it when no-one will hire me?"

Lance hums, only half paying attention. "Look harder. I understand you're on a bender, Kashi, but c'mon. Have you tried looking for an online job?"

" _Ew_."

"Listen, I get you want to become someone that works for the government or whatever--"

"Astronomy professional, dude. There's a difference."

Lance gives him a flat look that radiates an aura of seriousness. "Why don't you try working in aerospace? You might end up liking it." He flings off the special goggles he engineered and places it on his desk.

"But that's not why I went to college."

Talks like this always strike a cord in his being. The times that Lance is steadfastly resolute is almost ominous. His expression is sturdy, his usual hint of a smirk gone. He's only this intense when speaking about their future and his work, his caring and working nature taking the better of him.

"I know that," he says slowly, deliberately, "but you have an astronomy degree. For Christ's sake, you took that engineering in spacecraft class for two whole years. You don't necessarily have to work with your hands. Just try, please? For yourself?"

"But--" He knows it's a losing battle for Lance hasn't shed the look yet.

"For me?"

There it is. Shiro would bend over backwards and sideways for Lance. He sighs before smiling, albeit resigned.

"I'm guessing you know a guy." 

Lance beams at him with a singular jerking nod. "Pidge Holt. Can she come in, like, three days? She's a recruiter for those who are too afraid to go to the center."

"Sure," Shiro says, standing. Lance turns back to his work, securing his goggles again. "What are you working on?"

"Just gathering data," Lance replies. He's gotten back into his working frame of mind. "The director put me on a special project." Lance grins, just barely, for a short second before his mouth becomes neutral again.

"Oh yeah? For what?"

"A better cure for HIV," he mutters. Shiro gapes openly. "You know, since the current one only works 35% of the time."

"Oh my God!" He shouts and Lance winces, shooting him a small scowl. "Why didn't you tell me? That's huge, Kitten!"

"Still don't understand why you call me that," Lance mumbles. 

"Because you remind me of one."

"I know it's a big deal. Why do you think I go to the lab so rarely these days? I want to research a great deal before I try something out." He lets out a long, steady breath. Lance squints at a picture with determination before shaking his head. 

Lance's phone vibrates with the song  _I'm Not Gay._  He looks up at the clock and grins in relief. "Thank God it's four o'clock. Three hour break."

He picks up the phone, saying in an eerily professional voice, "Hello, this is Lance Incorporated, how may I help you?"

The greeting started late in Lance's senior year. Neither of them really know where it came from, but it never left.

"Oh, Keith, sweetheart. I'm not leaving the house to bring you a head of lettuce and a loaf of bread." A prolonged pause as Lance's eyebrows slowly raise. "How did you manage -- okay, calm down. Keith, jeez, buddy. I'll head over. What do you really want for dinner?" Lance nods along to whatever Keith is saying. "You got it. See you later."

"What's wrong?" Shiro's asks once Lance hangs up. Lance chuckles to himself.

"Your little brother is a moron." He stands, stretching his arms over his head after tossing his goggles to his desk once again.

"How so?"

"In detail?"

"Yeah."

"You know how weird his eating habits are. I make his lunch and give it to him when I have the time. He's seen me make that gross as Hell boiled cabbage sandwich, so he tried to make it himself. First he put the water on way too high. Then he mixed cayenne pepper powder into the water instead of paprika. Keep in mind that he wasn't even supposed to add seasoning yet.

"Then -- then he fucking just put the cabbage into the extremely hot water. Didn't cut the base off, nothing. He didn't measure the salt or rosemary he dumped in either. Then he walked away from the stove to grab that hella thick baguette, right? Cut the rest of it in half, the easy part. Goes back with the bread. Apparently it was still in his hand when he looked into the pot. The water was on fire."

"What the fuck."

"Right? So then he accidentally dropped the slices of bread in there. It caught on fire, too. So he got that wooden spoon that we killed a spider with and took the cabbage out. Then dropped it onto the floor." Lance laughs a bit. "So then Keith throws the water into the sink and the fire goes down. But then the cabbage is somehow on fire and he was putting it out when he called me."

"I..."

"He kind of sounded like this," Lance says, then takes a deep breath. His voice is a replica of Keith's, "'Lance oh my God I tried to make that cabbage sandwich so I put the water for ten and added cayenne instead of paprika then put the cabbage in and added the salt and rosemary but I didn't measure it and I cut the bread and I went back to the pot but the water was on  _fire, Lance_ , and I dropped the bread in it then took the cabbage out with that fireproof wood spoon but it got on the floor then I threw the water in the sink but I turned around and the cabbage is on fire, I just put it out but I'm still  _reallyfuckingconfusedabouthowthat **happened!"**_

It doesn't take long for Lance to dissolve into giggles. Shiro smiles fondly at the sight; Lance breathless with laughter and cheeks flushed, hair askew from running his hands through it, the little marks from his goggles on the bridge of his nose. He fell in love with a complete dork.

Lance sobers but is still beaming. He grabs his keys from the coffee table, slipping the Deadpool lanyard over his neck. "Wanna come with me to the supermarket?"

"Sure," Shiro says and grabs his own keys. They head out of the door together and down to Lance's Beetle. "What are you making?"

"Paella, as Mullet requested. I'm gonna have to go over my break time limit, though." Lance grunts as he shuffles down into his car. Shiro has even more of a struggle. "Cooking isn't relaxing. Baking is, but not cooking. I just wanted to chill, maybe masturbate."

Shiro skips over the last part as his cheeks heat up. "I could help you cook-"

"Fuck no," Lance says as he unsnaps his key and starts the car then pulls out of the space. "You're as bad as Keith."

"How--"

"You set the fridge on fire."

"Okay, it was electrical."

"The inside, Kashi?!"

They playfully bicker about just how possible it is to set the inside of the fridge on fire until they get to the market. Lance slips out with ease and Shiro gets a bit stuck. His cheeks heat up again when Lance cackles as Shiro has to practically rock the car to leave.

They walk into the Whole Foods in relative silence. Shiro grabs a cart and wordlessly, Lance hops in and manages to fold his mile long legs comfortably. Shiro says nothing, instead raising an eyebrow.

Lance simpers, tongue between his teeth. "Where do we go to get extra-virgin olive oil?" Lance ponders. Then he smirks, snaps his fingers. "I guess we just bathe you in olive oil and collect?"

Shiro glares at him, snapping, "Twenty-eight year old men -- like me, thanks, Kitten -- shouldn't be virgins. It's not funny."

His blue eyes soften and he says in a gentle voice, "Yeah, it is."

He can't help but let out a huff of reluctant laughter, wheeling Lance through the second set of doors. He pushes expertly through the aisles and watches Lance pick up a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil and place it between his legs.

"Up next: that oh so spicy Spanish chorizo!" Lance announces. "Also, I'm gonna find you a nice long boy to smooch."

"No," Shiro says, shooting the idea down. He heads to the refrigerated meats section. "I think the McFuck not."

"Why?" Lance asks once Shiro opens the fridge. He plucks the package out, seating it with the olive oil. "You want  _me_  to take your virginity?"

Shiro doesn't answer, instead sputtering as his hands fly up to his face. He tries in vain to block out Lance's maniacal laughter and force the blush away. He's probably as red as the paprika in the sausage.

"I hate you," he mumbles from behind his hands. He knows Lance is grinning, though, from the fond laugh he lets out.

"Kashi, we both know that's a lie."

It really is.

 

Lance shoves Keith's rickety front door open, arms full of groceries. He discards courtesy, stomping his way into the kitchen. Shiro follows, somewhat amused.

Keith is sitting on the floor, staring mournfully at a large and blackened spot on his usually pristine tiled floor.

 _"Ay que linda,"_  Lance cooes. Shiro feels subtle shivers run up his spine. Lance places the ingredients on the counter.  _"¡Pobre bebé quemó su propio piso! Qué tonto."_

"Shut the fuck up with your Spanish insults," Keith mutters. Shiro can suddenly taste Pepto Bismol on his tongue and frowns, unsure of where the taste came from. 

"So you don't want the paella." Lance shrugs with an amused lilt to his voice. He raises an eyebrow as Keith runs a finger through the stain on the floor.

"I'm not getting my security deposit back, am I?" He asks softly. Lance snorts.

"I'm afraid not." Lance begins to take the ingredients out of the bag. Then, he freezes. "Keith, I have a very important question for you."

"Yeah?" He glances up at Lance the same time Shiro does. Keith also tenses up.

"Did you put peanut oil in the water?"

"Yes?"

"Are you aware that peanut oil is  _flammable?"_

"Oh. No."

Lance sighs and runs a hand through his already messy hair. "Can we just--do we need another session on what edible liquids are flammable?"

Keith mumbles, "I just forgot."

"No shit," Lance says. He begins to prep his station as Shiro helps Keith up from the floor. "Dont worry; be happy."

"How could I possibly be happy?"

"It's the small things,  _pequeño idiota_. Don't you understand? I'm making donuts."

Keith visibly brightens. "The Cheddar Bay Biscuit -- ?"

"You betcha."

"Cheddar Bay Bicuit donuts?" Shiro asks. He feels mildly betrayed that he's never heard Lance even mention it. "The Hell is that?"

"Lance makes the dough for Red Lobster Cheddar Bay Bisquits. Then he fries them and coats them in either powdered sugar or cinnamon and sugar!" Keith voice steadily becomes more excited before it flattens suddenly. "They're pretty good."

"And I didn't know about these because?" Shiro looks at Lance pointedly. Lance resolutely ignores his tone.

"It's a specialty just for Keith," he chirps before slamming a bag of shredded cheddar cheese on the counter. It's very passive aggressive. "Everyone get out while I cook."

He tosses a deadly smile over his shoulder. Shiro and Keith scurry out of the kitchen and into his living room.

 

It's an hour later that Shiro pokes his head into the doorway. There's oil in a pot, boiling. Lance takes a clump of dough out of a bowl and carefully drops it into the oil. He picks a plain donut out of the pot with a slotted spoon before rolling it in powdered sugar.

"Slow hands, like sweat drippin' down our dirty laundry; no, no chance, that I'm leaving here without you on me,"  Lance sings. Shiro can barely hear him but enjoys it nonetheless. "I, I know, yeah I already know that there ain't no stoppin' your plans and those slow hands.

"Woo!" Lance shrieks, making a 360-degree turn on his heel.  _"Consejos para los dedos que muestran un espectáculo. Me tengo ahora y no puedo decir que no. Quiero estar contigo solo llévame a casa llévame a casa. Consejos para los dedos que muestran un espectáculo._ _¿No puedes decir que te quiero?_  Baby, yeah!"

"Slow hands!" Shiro yells. Lance jumps and nearly drops a donut onto the floor. He places it in a mixture of cinnamon and sugar before he carefully places it onto the counter. Lance faces Shiro, cheeks flushed and hand clenched over his heart. "Like sweat drippin' down our dirty laundry?"

Lance glares at him, the blush deepening a tad. "You know I hate having an audience."

"I like the little Spanish you added." Shiro smirks and leans against the doorway. "Very nice."

Lance rolls his eyes and places the finished donut on a plate filled with others. He turns off the stove, then walks over to Shiro, hips swinging.

"Havana, ooh na-na," he coos. "Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh na-na. He took me back to East Atlanta, na-na-na. Oh, but my heart is in Havana," Lance bumps his hip against Shiro purposely with a wink as he brushes past him. "There's something 'bout his manners. Havana, ooh na-na."

Shiro has to stare at the ground for a moment to gather his wits. Occasionally, Lance would flirt with him like it was no big deal. But, shit, if it didn't leave Shiro breathless every time.

He hears Lance snicker before feeling a tug at a belt loop from behind him. He turns and Lance raises his eyebrows.

"You good?" He asks. When Shiro silently nods, Lance grins. "Come on and try them before Keith eats them all."

"All right."

Neither of them move, though. Lance stares at the ground with a small and confused frown. He kicks at the tile briefly then his face blooms red. 

Shiro can only watch helplessly and painfully in love as Lance tugs at his shirt collar and clears his throat. He looks up at Shiro from beneath his eyelashes. It causes for Shiro's own face to heat rapidly.

"Uh..." Lance trails off, gnaws on his lip, then, "yeah. Come on."

Where the Hell did this awkward atmosphere come from?

"Mm-hm," Shiro hums. He scratches his jaw before tentatively grabbing Lance's hand.

He refuses to turn around as he walks forward, happy enough that Lance didn't pull away. Lance does make a vague noise, but doesnt hold on; neither here nor there.

Shiro stops Lance's hand when they enter the living room so Keith can't see. Shiro looks back at Lance. He has his hand over the bottom half of his face, though his ears are a gorgeous shade of red. Shiro smiles and by the way the corners of Lance's eyes crinkle, he does too.

"For how long?" Lance asks quietly. His voice is muffled behind his hand.

"Since high school," Shiro responds. "I've just been really -- afraid."

"You should know Lance better than that."

\-- it's said by Keith and startles Lance so much that he drops the plate of donuts on the floor. Lance stares at the floor in dismay before glaring at Keith.

"You better eat those!" He shouts, then pushes Keith's shoulder roughly. Keith scowls at him yet seems sheepish. "And yike, you -- "

"Yike?" Keith asks.

" _Yike_. Anyways -- " Lance says, dragging a hand down his face, " -- you really should. I'm literally in love with you."

Lance McClain is in love with him?

No --

" -- way. There's no way you feel the same," Shiro says. He pulls absently on his forelock. "Nope."

"Well," Lance starts, then crouches and begins to place the donuts on the plate. Keith begins to do the same. "I do, like it or not."

"But -- all of those people you've dated?"

"Some say the best way to get over someone is find somebody else," Lance says. He looks up at Shiro with a bright grin. "I never found that _somebody else."_

"Oh."

"Oh," Keith mocks under his breath. Lance smacks him lightly on the back of his head. "Unnecessary."

"So," Lance says after they finish plating the donuts. He hands the plate to Keith, who scurries into the living room like a gremlin. "We should obviously talk about this."

"Yeah," Shiro agrees.

"After you find a job."

What.

" _What?!_ "

"You've been jobless for too long!" Lance points out lightly. "I can't have a partner that can't support themselves."

Shiro nods slowly then sighs, defeated. "That's actually a really good reason."

"Duh," Lance says and rolls those beautiful royal blues; an eye color Shiro has never seen on anyone else. "You agree to these terms?"

"Yessir."

Lance knocks Shiro's chest with the back of his hand. "And hey, Pidge is coming by soon. It's closer then you think."

He watches Lance go into the living room. And even though he has to wait, a blinding grin spreads over his face.

Time to get a job, online or not.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was gonna be a lot longer


End file.
